


He's Got Such A Lot of Feelings, This Moomintroll

by primadonnashorse



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime)
Genre: Boys In Love, Closeted Character, First Kiss, Indirect Kiss, Kinda, M/M, Pining, he's also ginger since some of the illustrations give him red hair, my version of snufkin has paws and a tail, tag I forgot to add:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 01:32:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18297608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primadonnashorse/pseuds/primadonnashorse
Summary: my first ever fanfic and it's a gay moomin/snufkin fanfic. nice.





	He's Got Such A Lot of Feelings, This Moomintroll

**Author's Note:**

> my first ever fanfic and it's a gay moomin/snufkin fanfic. nice.

The corners of Snufkin’s eyes crinkled as he smiled brightly at the Moomintroll's direction. His smile was crooked, as were his teeth for he had never been to a dentist, but Moomintroll did not mind. In fact, he was actually deeply enamoured by his friend’s asymmetry. The tears on his old green clothes and unruly hair framing his face was quite charming, too.

Moomintroll beamed a smile back at Snufkin accompanied with a few flicks of his tail, a reaction all too natural when he was with him. Then once the vagabond turned his head, he comfortably rested his eyes on him like he often did. They were sharing one of their many quiet moments together, only facing eachother to share a quick anecdote, point out something beautiful in nature (like a fish with iridescent scales or a bird with fluffy plumage) or to laugh at nothing in particular. Moments where he could just sit with Snufkin in tranquil, comfortable silence is something Moomintroll treasured the most.

Harsh rays of summer sunshine pierced towards the earth, but on their descent they softened as they were filtered through the clouds, leaves and branches. Under the midsummer trees, warm drops of sunlight spilled and were lovingly finger-painted on Moomintroll’s and Snufkin’s faces as they lazed about on the grass among the daisies, primroses and poppy mallows. Snufkin wore a freshly-weaved flower crown on his head, and they both had stray petals stuck to their fur.

The sunlight mostly dotted on Snufkin’s old hat, adorning it with flecks of pale green and yellow here and there. But Moomintroll also saw how it touched some of his ginger locks and the sun-kissed skin on the lower half of his face, the part not obscured by his wide-brimmed hat.

However, his hat also had many holes, so he got to see his long eyelashes catch drops of sunshine as he moved his head a certain angle and they went from dark brown to the loveliest shade of pale orange. At this, butterflies overflowed in the Moomintroll's tummy and he felt the need to point out what was in front of him.

“You look quite remarkable, y’know. You always have, but the perfect setting can always do such... _beautiful_ little wonders...” Moomintroll’s powder white face, as well as the tips of his ears, turned peachy pink as he pushed that third to last word out of his mouth. He spoke a little too fast, and he spoke quietly to Snufkin, making sure no one nearby could overhear his words.

As he quickly surveyed the area for any Mymbles of small stature, a yellow butterfly delicately landed on Moomintroll’s flushed ear and he twitched it away.

Snufkin had taken out his harmonica to play his and Moomin's old song, All Small Beasts Should Have Bows In Their Tails, but instead his usual half-lidded eyes widened slightly at his friend’s affectionate comment. He stared at the flustered troll beside him.

After an awkward pause, he broke out into gentle fits of giggles and chuckles. He used a curled paw to cover his laughing mouth and the other to tip his hat forward, casting a dark shadow over the red-tinted blotches that have sprung to his cheeks. His harmonica sat on his lap.

“Oh my, oh my...is that really so, my dove?,” Snufkin asked under his breath, seeing that Moomintroll had whispered to him first. His voice was cool and calm, however, his body language said otherwise. Moomintroll could've sworn he saw his tail wag a bit behind him.

Moomintroll gawked at his friend's reddening face and slowly nodded. He's never seen the Snufkin lose his composure quite like this before and the butterflies he was feeling were not quelled to think he was the one who caused it.

“Is that...really so?” Snufkin repeated as he placed his harmonica back in his pockets and moved closer to his best friend. His voice was reduced to chipper hums and he let go of his hat to slowly trace an index finger over Moomintroll’s knuckles.

The white troll’s breath hitched and the fur on his tail stood on end, suddenly keenly aware of what he just said. Of course, he has never called another man beautiful before, but he really did feel Snufkin fit that word to a T. The words "brave", "wise" and "home" had risen in his mind, as well. Perhaps he should have used one of those instead? Or were they too much, too? Moomintroll then pondered what words men are allowed to use with other men and felt self-conscious over his word choices now.

Snufkin then fluttered his eyes shut and the freckles on his cheeks came into view as he leaned in closer. Moomintroll counted a few before Snufkin tenderly nuzzled Moomintroll's face with his own and he continued to hum their song. A few giggles were interlaced with his gay humming as the short fur on Moomintroll's snout tickled his lips.

“You are a splendid Moomintroll,” Snufkin muttered. Moomintroll’s heart skipped a beat, and he nervously pulled up blades of grass and poppy mallows with his left paw.

He wanted to ask Snufkin if he was aware that this a traditional Moomin "kiss" he's giving him right now. Not quite a real kiss, mind you. It was simply an act of nose touching with no actual lip contact, but it carried almost the same weight to Moomintroll.

Yet for some reason, he did not want to risk spoiling the moment, even if it was rather embarrassing to feel himself turning into a whole shade of pink. One would’ve thought only Snorks could change in color depending on their mood.

Before he could do anything else, Snufkin pulled back and looked at him for a moment. A pensive expression colored his face and his smile fell to form a taut line. His face was still in a shade Moomintroll was not used to seeing. Moomintroll asked him if he said something wrong. When he got no answer, he concluded that Snufkin was finally realizing that it is quite unusual for two grown men to be holding each other in such an affectionate manne--

His thoughts got cut off as Snufkin slowly raised a rugged but gentle paw to Moomintroll’s fuzzy cheek. He contemplated something, then he tilted his head in an angle, and his hat fell on the grass with a dull sound. The flower crown fell with it. His unruly hair stuck out in all directions and single strands lit up while the summer light hit it.

He leaned forward and pressed the softest kiss he could muster on his best friend’s lips. It was slow and sincere, albeit it was a bit clumsy due to Snufkin's obvious inexperience with physical affection.

Moomintroll was swept up by a deep wave of warmth he could not describe and froze in place. It was unlike something he has ever felt before. It felt electrifying, but also like home. Yes, a very fitting word for Snufkin. He did not care if it was odd to think so.

His tail rapidly swished side-to-side and he felt weightless. He clung onto Snufkin’s tattered yellow scarf and relished being able to see every freckle on his face turn a darker shade with his blush. Snufkin gently cupped Moomintroll's face as if he was holding a precious heirloom in his black paws. Moomintroll blissfully closed his eyes and sank into the boy’s kiss...

And then he opened them.

Moomintroll sat alone on his winter bed. He slunk over himself and put his head on his hands, palms wiping his tired eyes.

His face and stomach burned with a pleasant glow, but he was confused as to why he had let his imagination run amok with such an elaborate fantasy with his best friend. Usually he would’ve forced his mind somewhere else, once he started feeling the first butterflies flutter in his stomach, that is.

His throat was dry. He wanted to tip-toe downstairs for a glass of water and perhaps eat some of the raspberry jam Moominmamma had prepared last fall for their winter hibernation, but drowsiness and another feeling he did not know the name of overtook his body.

Instead, he sat reclined on his bed, for thinking about being physically affectionate with Snufkin always made him want to sink to the floor. His legs had difficulty standing at the notion of the red-headed creature being so soft and tender towards him. Realistically, Snufkin wasn't even one to hug after being gone the entire winter, much less one to kiss anyone. The most affectionate he has ever seen him be was small shoulder squeezes, occasional hand holds that only lasted a few seconds, and hugs that were very few and far in between.

The Moomintroll always respected Snufkin's need for personal space, and he was not about to intrude in it any time soon, for he knows how important it is to him. Just like how leaving Moominvalley every year to travel on his own was very important to him, as well.

A sudden pang of sadness flashed through Moomintroll, but he ignored it.

"Unusual ways to be thinking of your friends...," he muttered to nobody. Such ways he could not tell a soul about, not even Moominmamma.

Not because he thought she would reject him or anything. Not at all. Moominmamma's motherly love knew no bounds and he knew she would console him and reassure her son she loves him just the same, all while fixing him a hot cup of tea and slow petting the white fur on his back.

Yet he was worried it could subconsciously change the way she thinks about him, for the better or for the worse, and that frightened him for reasons he could not quite explain. Moominmamma had beamed with joy when he first presented her with the Snorkmaiden around his arm many years ago.

"Would it be a shame to alter the image Moominmamma had held of her child in her head after so long?" Moomintroll asked himself.

Moomintroll had an idea just then and instead made himself picture kissing the Snorkmaiden instead of Snufkin.

It was pleasant. And it didn’t stir much within him. Although it wasn't really a kiss, mind you. All they did was nose rub since that was the most they could do with such big snouts putting their mouths out of reach, but it was overall a nice feeling. He always liked how happy it made her. He _was_ rather fond of the girl.

However, it ended up bringing him stress when he compared that tame feeling to the onslaught of warmth and overwhelming joy he felt while having dreams and daydreams of kissing Snufkin. Moomintroll clasped his hands over his mouth as he felt his face heating up again. He tried to steer his mind away from going back to that lovely place with him, for he had been spending too much time there lately, especially now that he's gone.

Moomintroll considered asking Moominpappa if it’s common for young men to think about kissing their male best friends more than their girlfriends, but that idea was dismissed as quickly as it was conceived.

Didn’t matter anyways. Both his parents were in deep slumber in the room next to him and he did not wish to wake them for things he rather keep secret.

He could not pinpoint when exactly these warm feelings for Snufkin started to take form, but he has found himself thinking about him much more frequently, more than he already did. Ever since he gave Moomintroll his harmonica last winter. He had given it to him again this winter as well, with no words this time. He simply left it on Moomintroll’s nightstand when nobody was looking and said his cheerios with no change in his monotone voice.

“But, Snufkin, this is your most prized possession,” Moomintroll had reminded him the first time he received it.

“That’s why I’m giving it to you.”

The sentimentality of the act and the smoothness of his simple response made Moomintroll quite grateful then. Snufkin's philosophy was to own as little as possible lest it weighed you down; he was quite literally giving Moomintroll everything he had to give and his act was not left unrecognized. He gave it to Moomintroll all so he could better cope with his absence till spring arrived.

However, he was still quite depressed that Snufkin was leaving soon for winter at all, so his face did not emote his appreciation. He thinks Snufkin knew how much it meant to him despite so, judging by that all-knowing grin that always seems to be plastered on his face.

“Play it when you remember me.”

Moomintroll blindly pawed for the harmonica in the dark. It was sitting next to him on the nightstand where Snufkin had left it and he soon retrieved it in one hand. He ran a white thumb over the floral designs etched on its side, remarked the years of scratches it had sustained under Snufkin’s care, before slowly lifting it up to his lips.

He could only get out a few decent notes that slightly resembled Snufkin’s spring tune, but he wasn’t too worried on playing a coherent song right now.

Rather, he was focused on how Snufkin’s own lips would press against the metal mouth of the harmonica and lazily blowed air into the holes the same moments he thought he would.

Moomintroll reminisced to last autumn, to the last days him and Snufkin could spend time together before he made his yearly trip South and Moomintroll would once again feel a cold heaviness settle in his heart.

He had asked Snufkin a question on the verandah. He couldn’t even remember what, really. It must have not been very important, but he remembered Snufkin's response clear as day.

Snufkin casually replied with “Well, one should listen to their gut, my dove,” and Moomintroll upon hearing the nickname gasped quietly and had the overwhelming urge to envelop Snufkin in a hug right then and there. It was the only time Snufkin had called him that, but he had difficulty getting it out of his mind. He replayed the sound of Snufkin's deep voice uttering the syllables over and over again.

"My dove..." Moomintroll mouthed to himself.

"His dove..."

Instead of hugging, the two male trolls sat two feet apart and continued their normal conversation without any acknowledgement of the pet name that was assigned to Moomintroll. Snufkin had turned his head and tugged his hat over his eyes. The sun must've gotten him, Moomintroll thought.

In the middle of a half-hearted song, he also recalled Snufkin not bothering to wash his harmonica both times he handed it over to Moomintroll right after he had used it.

Suddenly, his face scrunched up and his amateur harmonica playing ceased. A very self-indulgent (though he did not realize it was self-indulgent) and rather confusing thought broke through his mind and he, annoyingly, did not know how to stop it.

The thought was this: Moomintroll wondered if Snufkin did that on purpose as some secretive way of sharing an indirect kiss. Of course, he found it outlandish and unlikely, and asked himself why he would think such silly things. He shook his head and lifted the harmonica to his snout again.

He played for a few more minutes before the notes started to fizzle out and Moomintroll stopped playing any music at all. He only sat there with the harmonica in his palms now, his index finger drawing organic shapes over the swirly flower designs again. The previously cold metal of the instrument heating up with his furred paws fumbling it around.

After a while, he rolled to his side and pulled up his bedsheets. As he felt the tradition of winter hibernation lulling him back to sleep, he absentmindedly pressed a light kiss to the mouth of the harmonica before gradually slipping back into his season-long slumber. The room had been reset to winter’s white noise and outside her ghostly whistling and her whipping winds rattled the roof shingles of the Moominhouse, buried under feets of snow. Snufkin’s harmonica laid still on Moomintroll’s open palm, next to his sleeping face, snug under white fleece sheets. It was still warm from a Moomintroll's velvet kiss, and it shall return to Snufkin's hand in the first day of spring.

**Author's Note:**

> that's about it. sorry if it's a little sad? I see moomintroll as a closeted gay man who still hasn't come to terms with his obvious romantic feelings for snufkin yet and internally struggles with being himself a lot. I don't reckon he's very familiar with the concept of being gay too much living sheltered from the world and there's no m/m couples in moominvalley to my knowledge. I also projected on him on that bit with moominmamma.... I think one day he'll certainly overcome his issues and snufkin will be the main reason.
> 
> and I don't know if I'll ever expand on this, but jsyk snufkin's feelings aren't too far off from moomin's either


End file.
